


Tripping Over Tea

by khorybannefin



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Second-Hand Embarrassment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2018-06-29
Packaged: 2019-05-30 08:11:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15092708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/khorybannefin/pseuds/khorybannefin
Summary: Who doesn't lose their wits over a proper English gentleman?





	Tripping Over Tea

Tripping Over Tea

Pairing: Tom + Reader

Author: khorybannefin

Summary: Who isn't an utter klutz when it comes to a statuesque English gentleman?

Warnings: WORST SECONDHAND EMBARRASSMENT EVER

A/N: Requested by my beloved, and I needed the break. This came easier than almost everything I've written lately. Hopefully my lovely SPN fans at least know who Tom Hiddleston is and might forgive me.

 

Ok, seriously, the universe needed to give you like three more arms and a prehensile tail if it intended to keep loading you down with this much shit. It was Monday, only Monday! Already you had three manuscripts in your arms, your laptop, and you were desperately trying to get tea. Town was nuts. Apparently they were filming something locally, yay, which means the normally crowded small college town was neck deep in tourists. You didn't care. All you wanted was some damn tea and five minutes to breathe. 

You got the cup, paid, turned, and was mowed down by someone you didn't even see. They didn't stop either. You watched as everything happened in slow motion. Your hand slammed into your jaw, biting your own tongue. The hot tea managed to hit mostly you on its way out of your hand. The manuscripts that didn't land in the tea went sliding off into the crowd and your laptop really wasn't supposed to be in that many pieces. Your eyes went wide and you hit the floor on your knees, stunned with pain, both physical and emotional. You didn't notice that blood was coming from your mouth, but you felt your throat close and tears start to fall. You just sat, staring at the mess, and quietly fell apart.

Time went back to normal as a smoothly cultured voice asked if you were ok. A very tall man knelt, napkins in his hand. He tilted your face up and dabbed at the blood on your chin. Your eyes focused through swimming tears to see what had to be, hands down, the single most stunningly beautiful man you'd ever seen in your life. His eyes were this glorious crystal blue and he looked so concerned about you. Cool fingers wrapped around your hand and lifted you from the floor as he led you to the nearest chair.

"Oh darling, you are a bit of a mess. Come, sit here. Yes, thank you." He nodded as several people brought your papers to him and the pieces of your computer. He motioned at someone behind the counter and they brought another cup of tea out. You just kept staring, speechless, as this completely inhuman ethereal man tried to take care of you.

"Here, darling, just have some of this, it's all right."

You realized you were still crying, huge tears just rolling silently down your cheeks. You looked at the tea he put in your hands and then at the ruin of all of your work. Your breath hitched and you choked out the smallest, most miserable sob of your life, your head dropping to the table as you realized just how screwed you were. The cup made it to the table before your hands went to your face. He actually pulled your hands away.

"Oh please don't do that. It's ok!" He brushed the tears from your face with more napkins, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear. "All the ills of the world are solved with tea. I promise." He handed the cup back to you and waited until you took a sip. He smiled the most brilliant smile in the world when you did.

"There's a girl. Better?" You nodded jerkily. Then you realized that you'd been the most astronomically amazing klutz on earth and this man had saved you. He had literally picked you off the floor and tried to fix it. A stranger in a random line in a small town cafe. Your eyes studied him as he tried to soak the water out of some of the pages of your ruined work. Your world tilted sideways and a small voice inside you started to scream hysterically. 

Holy Mother, Goddess on high, you knew who he was!

You choked on your tea, face flushing neon, as his name, as well as his entire IMDB profile, flooded to the forefront of your brain. There wasn't enough shame and embarrassment on this green and verdant earth to cover this. You had just destroyed your entire life in front of TOM HIDDLESTON! And worse, he'd been an actual living angel and tried to save you, tried to make everything ok. You'd have happily melted into the damned floor than try to talk to him, to thank him.

"Well, darling, I think the paper will be all right but I'm afraid your laptop is rather ruined. Quite the casualty for a simple cuppa." He looked up. "Are you sure you're all right? You're looking a bit dazed still."

"I-I'm o-ok," you stammered, like the suave player that you were. "I...just...thank you. I'm so sorry to have ruined your morning." He chuckled softly at his lap and glanced back up at you, those blue eyes merrier than they had any right to be. You were pretty sure there had been oxygen in the room just a second ago.

"Don't apologize to me. I'm sorry *your* morning is ruined. I just wish I could actually help instead of flitting around." He held out a graceful hand. "I'm Tom."

"I'm, Y/N." You took cool, slender fingers in yours and tried to shake hands, but no, not with him. He drew your hand to his mouth and brushed his lips across your knuckles. Oxygen? Hello? Your face could literally block out the sun with redness right now. Did he have any idea how much he was killling you? Of course he didn't. He was too sweet and polite to even think about it. He gestured to your work.

"What was this, if I may ask?" You sighed, not wanting to tell him.

"I'm a TA. English Lit over at the college. I'm supposed to be going over first drafts of a couple of thesis papers. Three hard copy and everything else electronic, hence the laptop." He nodded, actually looking interested.

"How set back are you with this?" He was putting the pieces of the laptop into a bag that the awestruck little barista had brought to him.

"It'll be a few days before the college can get another one to me. It was issued by them. It'll come out of the department funds. The Professor is going to kill me."

You watched his hands move as he shuffled pieces of broken plastic, straightened the stack of damp paper, picked up his trash and took a sip of his own tea. His hands were like butterflies. Everything they did was beautiful. It was mesmerizing. You looked up as you heard him laugh again, that low quiet laugh that left a weight in your stomach.

"I have half a mind to write you a note for your Professor, but I'm afraid watching me write would be too much for you." He had such a look in his eyes. Oh my god, was he flirting with you?! He'd obviously noticed you staring. That's it, you were going to have to commit some sort of ritual suicide now.

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to stare, it's just..." You covered your burning face with your hands as he laughed, actually laughed, taking your hands away from your face again.

"No, no, no, don't do that. I'm sorry. I shouldn't tease." He was smiling at you, an actual smile of amusement not some polite professional smile. "You just seemed so fascinated. I don't think I've ever seen someone that in love with my hands."

"You haven't been watching," you blurted, then slapped your hand over your mouth, eyes wide. What the hell had you just said?! You groaned. "No, I didn't mean that. Well, yes, I did, but oh god just kill me now." His head was thrown back, laughing as you kept digging your own grave with your big mouth.

"Please, please, stop!" He was laughing, actual tears in his eyes. "Poor girl you're going to light the room on fire if you blush any harder. It's all right. Look, I'm running late, but I'd like to check in on you later, if that's all right? Make sure you're ok?"

"Um, ok, sure. You really don't have to."

"I insist," he met your eyes, smiling, and you caved. You wrote your number on a napkin and handed it to him. "Excellent. It was very nice meeting you, Y/N. Please have a better morning, all right?" 

You nodded, dumbfounded, and watched him leave. He was in jeans. You weren't the only one watching. It was a stunning view. He got outside and out of earshot before the entire cafe exploded with noise. You got mobbed, absolutely mobbed, by women (and a few guys) just going hysterically nuts over what just happened. You sat there like someone had cracked you in the face with an entire door. Dazed didn't cover it.

You had ruined every piece of work you had for the day. You'd ruined three thesis papers and destroyed a rather expensive piece of the schools equipment, the price of which would be yanked out of your department. Your Professor was going to scream himself sick at you for your own accident prone nature. You were going to be days behind on work that you already hadn't had enough time to complete.

But Tom Hiddleston had saved you. He'd helped you, touched you, consoled you. And you'd made him laugh. He'd asked for your number so he could talk to you later, even though you were the most rude, embarrassing, unattractive klutz to walk the earth.

*Goddess, just take me. I need to die now, before I screw this up.*


End file.
